


Unlikely Companions

by TrovanaLP



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Friendship/Love, Magic, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-05-15 16:17:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 18,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14793800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrovanaLP/pseuds/TrovanaLP
Summary: In a time of war, Newt Scamander - along with Tina and Queenie - must find allies in any place he can - even if that means breaking into a prison. Once the mysterious Mathilda joins their side and meets their group, she will have to prove that she is actually helpful in their task against the powerful Grindelwald.





	1. MACUSA Prison

It was cold for spring on that dark New York night. 

Newt, clutching his suitcase in his hands, crossed the empty street until he reached the building. Behind him, Tina and Queenie followed him, wands hidden between the folds of their coats. 

“We have to be quick once we are inside,” Tina said. “Do you all remember what you are meant to do?”

Newt and Queenie nodded, and they opened the door. Quietly, they slipped through the entrance of MACUSA's prison, tucked away within their main building. 

They walked in silence, keeping their wands pointed upwards, until they reached the elevators and went down to the lowest level. 

The prison ward, usually filled with people and aurors, was utterly empty when they came in. Tina, feeling guilty, stayed by the door to watch out for anyone who might see them. Not only were they breaking into the building, they would also be releasing a prisoner.

“She isn't dangerous,” Queenie said, trying to calm Newt. “But she's resourceful.”

“What was her crime?”

Queenie made a face.

“You'll find out as soon as she sees Tina. I think she's probably still angry.”

There were boxes stacked at the furthest end of the room, arranged horizontally in a very organized matter in long vertical lines. Some of them seemed covered, and some were empty. Most of them, however, were occupied and shone bleakly from the inside, as if a small nightlight was lit in them.

“This is inhumane,” Queenie said, approaching. “It's like they're trapped inside a fish tank.”

She was right, Newt realized. He could see people moving inside the glass containers, rolling over in their sleep. He couldn't imagine how uncomfortable it must have been.

“According to the file, she must be in the third row from the bottom, in column M.”

“Do they let them out, at least sometimes?”

“I don't know,” she responded. “When we find her, you can ask her.”

They lit up their wands, and began looking for the correct row and column.

“Here,” Queenie said. “Mathilda Burke.”

The figure inside was motionless, but the light was on, so they were sure that the confinement cell was in use.

Queenie tapped her fingernails against the glass, and the sudden movement inside of the box was all they needed to proceed.

Tina had also taken the combination that unlocked her cell, when she stole her file - and when she made sure that no one would be around when they broke in.

“Hi Tilda. It's me, Queenie. I'll get you out of there, alright, dear?”

The incantation needed was long, but soon rewarded. There was a sudden sound, similar to a ‘poof,’ and the cell opened. 

When the glass disappeared completely, Queenie removed the navy fabric that still obscured the mysterious Mathilda from view.

Newt's first impression was that the girl seemed older than he had imagined. She was small, almost bone-thin, and had sunken dark eyes that almost disappeared behind her thick brownish-black hair. 

Desperately, she showed them her wrists, bound and tied by some kind of magical rope. They were easy enough to remove. She then pointed to her ankles and mouth, looking a bit better as each binding was removed.

While Newt worked on her tied limbs, Queenie emptied the small compartment under her cell, per Tina’s instructions. It contained just a few things – a ring, a magic wand, and a small bag of money.

“Oh, dearest,” Mathilda said, softly. “Thank you, Queenie.”

“Have you been tied up since your trial?” Queenie asked, looking worried.

“Pretty much, yes –”

It seemed like she was going to add something else, but her eyes had traveled to Newt, and were watching him intently.

“You seem familiar,” she said. “Who –?”

But, as she spoke, Queenie had been helping her down from the cell – and she had fallen, unable to be supported by her barely used legs.

“I can't walk,” she said. “And I don't know why you want me out of here. I killed –”

“Someone's coming!” Tina yelled from the door. “Hurry!”

“I'm sorry, miss,” Newt said, stunning her to unconsciousness with a spell.

Queenie let out a strangled cry, but immediately saw how Newt popped his suitcase open, carried Mathilda in his arms, and asked her to close it and escape with Tina. 

They would meet later.

 


	2. The Prisoner

_She killed someone_.

That was Newt's only thought as he went down the stairs to the depths of his suitcase, with the girl still in his arms.

Once down, he made sure to leave her somewhere safe inside the cottage. The habitats for his creatures that were currently on display were occupied by mostly inoffensive beasts – and besides, he had another human there to keep her company. Someone who was also a fugitive and a killer, although he hadn’t committed those actions intentionally.

He left the boy with instructions on what to do in case she woke up, and headed back to the stairs to wait for Tina's signal that it was safe to come out again.

The signal came soon after that, and he returned to the girl's apartment, filled with questions that buzzed through his mind.

“Who is she?” Newt asked, as soon as he sat down in a chair in the living room.

“She's a good friend,” Queenie said.

“Why was she imprisoned? Queenie, she said she killed someone...”

“Well, yes, but not really...”

“I'll explain,” Tina said. “It's not a very long story.”

“I'm all ears,” he said. “If I'm going to hide someone, I might as well know who I'm dealing with.”

Queenie nodded, and urged Tina to speak. She, in turn, sat down in front of Newt and wrung her hands together.

“We met Mathilda a few years ago,” she began. “She had left her family behind, in England, for their involvement with the Dark Arts. She never mentioned their names, and we never asked. She needed help, and we helped her.

“Soon, she became independent. She found a job at a No-Maj store, she began making money, and she started renting her own apartment. But, we knew there was something she wasn't telling us...”

“She had a boyfriend,” Queenie said, interrupting. “He was a nice guy, but the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy forbade that relationship. She must have been lying to him, I suppose.”

“The truth is that we didn't know how she was handling it,” Tina continued. “And by mistake, I let it slip at work. They went looking for her one night, and created a mess in her house.”

“Her boyfriend died of shock,” Queenie said. “It turned out that she never told him that she was a witch, and was planning to keep it that way, but with each passing accusation made by MACUSA, his heart grew weaker, until it couldn't handle it anymore.”

“He died in her arms,” Tina said. “And we immediately took her into custody for maintaining a relationship with a No-Maj, almost exposing our secret, and involuntary murder.”

“But she didn't curse him or anything?”

“No,” Tina said. “He had a heart condition, and we didn't know it until the investigation was over. By then, she had already gone to trial.”

“There was a trial?” he asked, dumbfounded. “There was no reason for it, if it was an accident.”

“Yes, there was,” Queenie said. “Mathilda asked for it, rushed it, and declared herself guilty as soon as she could. We think she felt like it would fix her broken heart to be away from magical society.”

“She doesn't allow me to speak with her,” Tina said. “I think she's still hurt.”

“I've talked to her a few times since,” Queenie added. “She's completely sane, and like we told you, she has a great notion of Dark Arts – which we need.”

Newt nodded, slightly more convinced that breaking her out of confinement was their best option. He hoped, however, that no one would connect them to the crime, and that she actually proved to be helpful.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Mathilda Burke

Down in the magical suitcase, Mathilda began to stir awake. She remembered, very vaguely, Queenie's smile and a nice gentleman who had carried her to safety before everything had faded to black.

With a hand over her temple, she attempted to raise her torso, and found herself feeling utterly dizzy. She leaned back down, slowly.

She was sitting on an old but comfortable couch, wearing what was still the standard outfit for all female prisoners of MACUSA – a dull and simple gray dress – when she noticed that her wand was nowhere in sight. Worried, she attempted to get up despite the dizziness, so she could find Queenie, or that man who seemed oddly familiar, but a voice stopped her.

“If you get up, you'll feel worse.”

Mathilda looked around, startled. She was alone, she couldn't see anyone else. Maybe all those months in jail _had_ driven her mad.

“He'll come back. He always does.”

She nodded, convinced that her consciousness was playing a game on her. Softly, she laid down again, and quickly fell asleep once more.

Outside of the small wooden cabin, the man to whom the voice belonged, sighed. He would care for her, he promised himself, because he could feel that she was as damaged as he was.

\---

Newt came down a few hours later, carrying a cauldron of warm soup in his hand. He magically produced a bowl with his wand, and gave it to the young man outside the cabin.

“I've brought dinner for both,” he said. “How is she?”

“Asleep,” the other man replied. “She woke up a while back, but seemed very confused.”

“It's only natural,” Newt said. “I had to stun her to bring her here.”

“Is she dangerous?”

Newt's eyes rose, and met the younger man's stare. He was still trying to form an opinion on her, and would be waiting to have a good conversation with her once she had recovered. The Goldstein sisters, although respectable in his eyes, seemed cautious around her.

“No,” he said. “I don't think so.”

“Then why did you have to stun her?”

“We broke her out of jail.”

“She was in prison? What was her crime?”

“There was no crime,” Newt said. “Just a mistake.”

The young man nodded, unconvinced.

“Am I to care for her?” he said, hopeful.

“For now, since she's weak, yes. But, I'm bringing her wand, and once she recovers completely, she'll be able to care for herself.”

“When will that be?” he asked, slightly disappointed.

“I expect tomorrow, or maybe the day after.”

“Will she stay for long?”

“That's a question that I cannot answer, not right now. She's hiding, just as much as you are, and down here, you're undetectable.”

The young man nodded again, and fixated his eyes on the plate of food in front of him. It was the end of their conversation.

Newt, who was still working on understanding the man's behavior, shrugged and walked inside the cabin. He had a young woman to feed.

\---

When Mathilda's eyes opened again, she realized she was no longer alone.

“Hello!” A man said from above her. “Come on, I'll help you sit down.”

Once she was in a vertical position, and had stopped feeling dizzy, she looked at him closely.

“I don't like being studied,” he said, laughing uncomfortably.

“I know you,” she said. “You're British, so you must have gone to Hogwarts. As did I.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and you are so familiar to me...”

“I'm Newt,” he said, extending his hand. “Newt Scamander.”

“Oh,” she said. “Oh, I remember you. You were already in fifth year when I went to my first year. My friends thought you were cute, but we couldn't say it out loud.”

He had gone beet red, and was grinning, ashamed.

“The older boys said that you were just a dumb Hufflepuff, and that we were better –”

“Because you were Slytherin, I assume?”

“Indeed.”

“Well, I hope you don't hold those same ideas.”

“I don't. I read your book about magical beasts last summer. You're bloody brilliant.”

He was shocked for a minute, and went red again. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

She nodded but stayed quiet, watching him.

“You are probably wondering why I came here,” he said.

“I hope you brought dinner, I'm hungry.”

“I did bring dinner,” he said, grinning. “And I've brought your wand, as well, with some other things that we found in the compartment under your cell.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I'm glad, yet surprised, to be free.”

“The reason why we brought you out will be discussed later,” he said. “Right now, I just want you to eat and get stronger.”

She didn't argue when he presented the steaming bowl of soup in front of her.

“Where am I?” she asked, after having a spoonful or two.

“You are inside my suitcase,” he said. “Usually, I only keep creatures down here, where they can stay safely hidden. But, right now, I have two human residents as well.”

“Me and...?”

“You haven't met him?” Newt asked. “He told me that he saw you when you awoke earlier.”

“I, well… I heard a voice, but I thought it was just my inner voice.”

“No, no,” Newt said. “Here...”

He helped her up, and upon realizing that her knees were still too weak to walk, he helped her down again, and went to find the young man outside.

Her first thought was that he was just a boy. He couldn't have been older than her, at twenty-five, and had the expression of someone who had been badly hurt before – as if he were constantly trying to make amends.

“Mathilda,” Newt said. “This is Credence.”

“Hello, Credence,” she said. “It is nice to meet you.”

He was tall, gaunt, and quiet, with raven-black hair and dark sunken eyes. His cheekbones were his most prominent features, since they stood out proudly in his translucent skin. He had a very strong jaw, full lips, and an expression that reminded her of the one found in a scared cat.

He nodded curtly, but stayed in silence. He was looking down at his feet, probably wishing the ground could open and swallow him whole.

“You'll be spending lots of time together,” Newt said. “None of you are supposed to be seen up there, remember?”

“Yes,” Mathilda said, lowering her hand. “We'll figure it out.”

“Good,” Newt said. “Now, Mathilda, everything here is at your disposition. There's a shower, a small kitchen, and a bed for Credence – I'm sure you'll have no trouble in conjuring one for yourself.

“You both must remember, however, that sometimes the creatures come near, and you shouldn't be afraid of them. Mathilda, they are nothing that you haven't seen before and if Credence has questions, you can answer him. I'll come daily, and once we have a clear plan, we'll come to see you again, alright?”

She nodded.

“Thanks, Newt. For everything. You can send my regards to Queenie.”

“I will. Shall I send them to Tina, as well?”

She spat out a curse that made Newt blink in surprise. If her wand had been in her hand, it would have produced sparks almost immediately. 

“Good night, then,” he said, pretending he hadn't heard her. “Sleep tight.”


	4. Magical Revelations

Mathilda, with her wand in hand, was a completely different person. She didn't disrupt Newt's measurements of the cabin, but she quickly and effortlessly added a second bed and doors for the bathroom and shower. 

She looked outside and was unable to find the strange young man known as Credence, who had left with Newt, so she stepped into the shower as soon as her legs were recovered enough to carry her weight. When she came out of it, feeling relaxed and happy, she used her wand to change her outfit into a more cheerful one, and to dry her hair.

“I've never seen anyone doing magic so effortlessly before.”

Mathilda turned, with a hand over her heart, and found Credence standing awkwardly by the door.

“Maybe you haven't seen enough people doing magic, then,” she said. “For a wizard, it's like an extension of ourselves.”

He nodded, and stayed in place.

“You can come in,” she said. “I was in prison, but I'm not a bad person.”

Slowly, and carefully, he approached her.

“You're not a vampire, are you? Because if you are, by inviting you in, I just did the worst thing I could have done,” she said, smiling softly.

“I'm not,” he said. “Don't worry.”

“Good,” she said. “I'll show you how it works, if you want.”

“Magic?”

“Yes!”

“I don't have a wand.”

“You can use mine.”

He blinked, very slowly.

“I don't think Mr. Scamander would like that.”

Mathilda’s brow furrowed, and she considered him for a few seconds. Finally, she took a few steps closer to him, and stared at his face with curiosity.

“You owe him a lot, I can see it. But, there's power in you, Credence. If you can learn how to control it, you would be a very successful wizard. You shouldn’t be afraid of what you are capable of doing.”

\---

They didn't talk again for days. Credence shied away from her, afraid of what else she would tell him. If he had power, that meant that he would always be chased for it.

Mathilda, however, was still shocked by the opportunity given to her, and was taking full advantage of it. She practiced her magic daily, getting used to its feeling again. And she was good at it.

Credence, though cautious, still felt daring enough to only look at her if she wasn't looking back at him. It became a pastime, almost, to see how many things he could perceive in a fraction of a second. 

She wasn't happy with what had happened. The wand in her hand may have been an extension of her arm, but she left it on her pillow very often, and only used it when it was necessary. 

There was sadness in her eyes as well, a longing for something that she no longer had. Sometimes it overtook her, he realized, like in the mornings – when he would wake up and hear her crying into her pillow. It was harder to catch her during the day, because she controlled herself, but he still saw her when she stared off into the distance, lost in her own thoughts.

The strangest thing was that he was unable to reach out to her. When she cried, he couldn't move. When she stared at nothing, he didn't know what to say.

It was as if he were dealing with, well, himself.

And that didn’t make their living arrangements any easier.

\---

Upstairs, in the Goldstein's apartment, things weren't much better.

Newt hadn't received news in days, and time was running out faster with each passing attack of Grindelwald and his fanatics.

To make matters worse, he didn't have instructions on how to proceed with Mathilda and Credence. All he knew was that they had to remain hidden until news came, and then, they could finally talk.

 

 

 


	5. Desperate Measures

****

Finally, the piece of news that Newt had been waiting, arrived. It was confusing, strange, and more complicated to execute than he would have liked. But it was something.

And _something_ meant that he had go down again and say more than “Hello” to Mathilda Burke. So, he gathered up some courage and opened up his suitcase. It was better to get it out of the way quickly, so they could continue with their plan.

“Mathilda,” he said. “When you are ready, I want you to come up with me. Queenie, Tina, and I would like to speak with you.”

“I'm not speaking with Tina,” she said.

“Please,” he said. “It's important for her to be present.”

“Then whatever you want to tell me holds no interest for me.”

\---

Forced to take desperate measures, Newt decided to bring Queenie and Tina down into the suitcase, so they could speak with Mathilda.

Credence, knowing well that he wasn't to be seen, stayed in the cabin. 

Newt came down first, and Queenie followed him not long after. Mathilda was friendly with both, but she went completely stiff when Tina appeared.

The shift hadn't gone unnoticed by Credence, who watched as Mathilda rose, wand in hand, and headed for Tina.

“You!” She yelled. “How dare you?!”

“It wasn't my fault,” Tina said, raising her hands. “Tilda, you know that I didn't want to hurt you when –”

“But you did!”

The girl was shaking, and her wand was pointed right at Tina's heart. Newt, anticipating that reaction, was standing by, ready to intervene. Queenie was sitting, looking off into the distance.

“You told MACUSA about me and John,” Mathilda said, accusatory. “And they killed him.”

“We didn't know that he had a weak heart.”

Like a fury, she took three steps forward, and Newt jumped to stop her. Mathilda struggled against him, but she managed to free herself quickly.

“ _Serpensortia_!” she yelled.

A giant snake appeared from the tip of her wand, falling to the ground with a thud. Tina stepped back, terrified. 

“ _Vipera Evanesca_!” Newt yelled, making the snake disappear in a cloud of smoke. “You'll scare the creatures,” he said, taking Mathilda's waist and dragging her back. 

She fought him, but eventually stopped moving. Credence, with a broken heart, heard the first gut wrenching sob coming from her. She slipped out of Newt's arms, falling to the ground slowly until her knees hit its sandy surface. Her wand, forgotten, lay at her side.

“I loved him,” she sobbed. “I was going to get engaged to him, and we were going to marry, and I was going to have his children. I was going to give up my magic for him.”

“Oh, dearie,” Queenie said, attempting to reach for her – but decided to stop as soon as Mathilda's fingers tangled around her wand again.

“You took that from me, Tina. You took the person I loved.”

“I didn't know what would happen,” she said, moved. “I feared for you.”

“So you called the Aurors on me?”

“How could I know what would happen?”

“I don't know, Tina! All I know is that you showed up, then they did – and the next thing I know is that John is laying on the ground, dying, with his head in my lap. I saw his life slipping through my fingers, I felt his heartbeat grow slower, until it stopped. And then I was detained and taken to trial.”

“I'm sorry,” Tina said. “I was in the wrong. I should have asked you...”

“No, you should have kept your nose out of other people's business.”

She got up shakily, and turned to Newt.

“Whatever you wanted to tell me, I'm not interested.”

She began walking in the direction of the cabin, while Queenie and Newt shared a look.

“It's about Grindelwald,” Newt said. “You've heard his name, right?”

Mathilda stopped, and Credence was close enough to see the tear-tracks running down her face.

“So that’s why you risked breaking me out of jail…” she mused for a second. “Let him destroy the magical world,” she said, shrugging. “There's nothing I know about Dark Arts that could possibly help you with getting rid of him.”

“But –”

“Get Dumbledore,” she said. “He's more likely to be able to help you. While you are at it, leave me at the Leaky Cauldron – I'll go home.”

She stepped through the door of the cabin, and found a handkerchief floating in front of her face, held by Credence's hands.

“I'm sorry,” he said, looking down.

Her eyes watered when she took the handkerchief from his hand.

“Thank you,” she muttered. “Thank you.”

\---

“Will you truly leave?” Credence asked.

“I don't know.”

Mathilda had barely recovered from that altercation. Her moments of sadness came more often, leaving her weak and desperate. 

“I should leave,” she said. “I should disappear and pretend like nothing has happened, but...”

“He's dangerous,” he said. “Mr. Graves.”

“Graves?” she asked. “Who –?”

“He's the man that Newt was talking about.”

“Gellert Grindelwald?” she asked. 

“Yes, that one. When I met him, he was known as Mr. Graves.”

“Was he the one who hurt you?”

He blinked slowly, raising his eyes to meet hers.

“How did you know?”

“I recognize the scars that Dark Magic leaves behind.”

“He wasn't the only who hurt me.”

“Tina...?” she asked, hesitant.

“No, no... Ms. Goldstein has been nothing but kind to me.”

“That only makes one of us, then,” she said, pausing. “If I leave, will you come with me, Credence?”

He looked up, startled. 

“Why? We barely know each other.”

“Because you deserve your freedom as much as I do.”

“Will we help Mr. Scamander if we leave?”

“If that will get you to leave with me, yes, I'll help him. It’ll keep me away from Tina, too, which is always good.”

“Where will we go?” he asked, grinning softly. 

“London,” she said, relieved. “To my family's house. We don't get along too well, but they can be helpful when needed.”

“O-okay,” he said. “I'll go.”

 

 


	6. European Travels

To keep up with appearances, since Mathilda and Credence weren’t supposed to be seen, their trip was arranged so that Newt, Tina, and Queenie had a reason to go to London - which proved to be time consuming, and took extremely long to arrange.

The extra time that no one had accounted for, was used by Credence and Mathilda to practice magic and become closer friends. If he was going to accompany her to London, they might as well get to know each other.

Credence found her to be absolutely compelling. She was an extremely talented witch, clever and quick with a wand, and even more skilled in non-verbal and wandless magic. Every time he saw her, or every time they practiced, he was left in awe of her talent and her prowess – but, however, he also detected hints of something darker that lurked under the surface.

Mathilda, however, found Credence to be unreadable and an open book at the same time. He was vulnerable and open, yet guarded and cautious. He liked to smile, but was also serious most of the time – with a permanent frown on his forehead. He enjoyed watching her practice magic, but he refused to practice himself. He cowered away from her spells, hid from their effect, and stared at them with a look of utter fascination.

Even then, they made it work. By the time the trip across the ocean was over, Credence and Mathilda were no longer strangers – they were friends, companions, and trusted each other as if they had met as children and not two months before.

Now, the hardest part was ahead of them. They separated from Newt, Tina, and Queenie in the bleak London harbor, where they were finally released from the suitcase. They stayed behind in London while the others went up to Scotland to wait for more instructions and any answers that Mathilda’s family could give them.

\---

“Where are we going?” Credence asked, looking around the dirty London street.

He was lost, staring at everything with curiosity. Instead, she was walking expertly across the busy cobbled streets of the city, searching for something.

“Our first stop is the Leaky Cauldron,” Mathilda said. “I'll write to my family then, asking for an audience.”

“An audience?” he repeated. “They're your family...”

As close as they had become, her family wasn’t something that she liked talking about. He had learned it early on in their time together, because she rolled her eyes and huffed every time that Newt brought up the possible ties to Grindelwald that they could have.

“I didn't precisely leave on the best of terms, but there's a high chance that they'll want to see me again – even if it is just to burn my name out of the family tree forever.”

“They can do that?” he asked, suddenly worried.

“It wouldn't be the first time,” she said, shrugging. “Come on, let's go inside.”

He nodded and followed her into the shabby old building in a corner.

The place was filled with wizards and witches, each of them in a different array of oddly matching clothes.

“No sense of fashion at all,” she whispered. “I'll speak with Tom, the bartender, about our rooms, alright?”

“Can I look around?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Though not too intensely – you're not in America anymore.”

She grinned softly and touched his elbow, watching him as he copied her happy expression and then looked to a side.

“Hello, Tom,” Mathilda said, approaching the bar after leaving him behind. 

The bartender turned around, showing her a crooked smile that was missing a tooth.

“Miss Burke!” he yelled. “It's been a while since I last saw you here.”

“It has,” she agreed. 

“You weren't quite as happy last time, either.”

“The circumstances are quite different, Tom,” she said, with a tone which made it clear that she did not want to elaborate. 

“What can I get for you?” he asked. 

“Brandy for me, neat. Butter beer for my friend. And a room for two.”

Tom looked around, immediately noticing the overwhelmed young man that couldn't keep his eyes from wandering around the establishment.

“One or two beds?”

“Two, preferably.”

“Have a seat,” he said, nodding. “I'll have your drinks and key ready in a second.”

“Thank you, Tom.”

She walked to where he was, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

“Everything alright?” she asked.

“Y-yes,” he said. “Everything is perfect.”

“You like it, don't you?”

He nodded. 

“Come and sit with me, Credence. I'll tell you who they are.”

“You know them?”

“Most of them. Come.”

He followed her, sitting on a table near the stairs.

“The bartender knew you,” he said. 

“I come from a very ancient and noble house,” she explained. “We know many people, and we are well connected in the wizarding world.”

“Why did you leave England, then? If your family is known here, why would you want to go to America?”

“Because of that very same reason. My family has a reputation for liking the obscure and forbidden things that makes other wizards fear us, and I don't want to be aligned with those ideals.” She paused. “America was a fresh start for me, even if it would eventually turn out to make others afraid of what I was capable.”

“I'm not afraid of you,” he said. “Nothing you've done has made me fear you.”

“You don't know me well enough, Credence. If you did, you would know that I _am_ to be feared.”

He blinked a few times, perplexed. She didn't seem dangerous, in fact, she had never done anything that could remotely scare him. But, he also had to accept that he didn't know her all that well. It was one of the things that he disliked of her – there were too many layers to uncover.

The bartender came with their drinks not long after, and left a key next to the filled glasses. 

“Room 15, Miss Burke,” he said. “Two beds, I hope it's to your liking.”

“Thank you, Tom. For everything.”

She paid him, slipping some coins into the man's calloused hands. He thanked her silently with a nod and a smile, and retreated back behind the bar.

He returned his gaze to the tall glass in front of him, filled to the brim with a caramel-colored liquid and matching foam on top.

“It's butter beer,” she said. “Go on, try it. It's very sweet.”

“Unlike yourself,” said a voice.

Mathilda was out of her seat in a second, standing next to the man to whom the voice belonged. Credence, shocked, didn’t move.


	7. Darkness Within

The man in front of them was tall, thin, and gaunt, with very marked angular features and a long ponytail of platinum blond hair.

“Miss Burke,” he said, bowing his head in greeting.

“Mister Malfoy,” she said, clenching her teeth. “I didn't think I'd find you here – I thought you considered this establishment to be, what did you call it last time, ah, below your stature.”

“I'm just returning from the Ministry,” he explained. “I thought about checking my family's apothecary in Diagon Alley.”

“I see,” she said, clenching her teeth. “Well, if you excuse me, mister Malfoy, I am just returning from a long trip and would like to rest.”

“Are you coming back for good? Or are you still insisting on pursuing that so-called ‘adventure’ that ended our –”

“There was never something between us!” she hissed. “I don't know what my father told you, but I never gave my consent –”

“You didn't have to,” he said dangerously, taking her upper arm. “You just had to obey your father.”

Credence saw something shift in her, as if a mask had just fallen from her face. For the first time, he truly realized that he didn't know who his traveling companion was like with other people that weren't those he trusted. That darkness that he sensed in her was now showing in plain sight.

“Mister Malfoy,” she said tersely. “If you don't let go of me at this very second, I will make sure everyone in this pub knows about what happens between us from now on. And I warn you, it won't end well for you.”

“Don't try to underestimate me, _girl_ ,” he growled, squeezing her arm tighter so she was mere inches away from him. “Herbert promised me your hand in marriage, and I intend to get just that – I will not lose my opportunity to marry into one of the most known pure-blood houses that still exist in Britain because you are as immature as a brat who –”

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Mathilda had taken out her wand, placing it ever so carefully below the man's jaw – she began dragging it downwards, slowly and deliberately, until it rested just over his heart.

“I asked you nicely the first time,” she said, low. “Now, take your hands off me.”

Credence didn't know what moved him, the necessity of avoiding a catastrophe or the desire to touch her, but he wrapped his slender fingers around her wrist. She turned, shockingly fast, and blinked a few times when she saw him, as if she had forgotten that he was there.

Her fingers, slowly, let go of her wand. She kept it in her hands, waiting until Malfoy took a step back and released her arm.

“Is he with you?” Malfoy asked, not bothering to spare a look at the raven-haired boy he didn't know.

“He is,” she said.

“Very well,” Malfoy agreed. “I shall speak with your father to settle this matter...”

“I have not seen my father since I was ten years old,” she said. “He has no say in my personal life. If you wish to discuss anything, I'll direct you to my uncle Cygnus.”

The man's expression changed, and suddenly he seemed scared and weakened. He shook his head.

“That would not be necessary, Miss Burke. Thank you.”

He did a small curtsy in her direction, treated Credence as if he wasn't there, and walked outside the pub and into the chilly London night.

“Mathilda?” Credence ventured to ask after a few agonizing minutes of seeing a hard-rock expression on her face. “Are you alright?”

“Room 15,” she said, raising the key without looking at him in the eye. “Wait for me there.”

\---

He sat on one of the beds, with his chin resting comfortably over his knees. The entrance had remained closed since he had entered the room, and he had been avoiding going downstairs to find Mathilda when there was a knock on the polished surface of the door.

“It's me,” Mathilda said from the other side.

He got up, feeling a little dizzy, and opened. She looked the same, albeit a bit shaken.

“How are you?” she asked. “I'm sorry you had to witness that.”

“Who was he?”

The question took her off guard for a second, she staggered and opened her mouth a few times, but was unable to produce a sound. Finally, she found her voice again.

“He was a friend of my father's,” she explained. “They maintain some business together, and since my father is deeply in debt, he decided to bargain my hand in marriage. Mr. Malfoy is extremely wealthy, so he considered the match to be advantageous for everyone.”

“And you?”

A bitter smile appeared on her features and she looked down.

“I don't feel any fondness for him. He only wants the power that comes with being part of my family, and I'm not willing to give him the satisfaction he desires.”

“But...?”

“In my family, marriages are very often arranged. If it hadn't been for the separation of my parents, it is very likely that I would be Mrs. Malfoy now.”

“Against your wishes?”

“Yes.”

“But, you wouldn't be happy...”

“That doesn't matter to them.”

Credence stayed quiet, watching her as she removed her coat, leaving her in a simple brown dress that she owned.

“I don't think that I'll like them too much,” he said.

She smiled, approaching him so she could take his cheek in her hands. He nuzzled against them, humming happily.

“That's the right attitude to have, Credence.”

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Travel Anxiety

 

Mathilda rose early the next morning. By the time Credence woke up, she had already dressed and styled her hair.

“Black doesn't suit you,” he said, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

It was true, Mathilda looked pale and sickly in her tight black gown that framed her from the top of the high-necked collar to her ankle-high boots. She had tied her hair back, had pinned a hat in place, and had begun to grumble something under her breath that he didn't quite understand.

“My family replied late last night,” she said, stabbing her thick hair with her wand in the spot where the bun had come undone. “They expect us today at noon.”

“Where?” he asked, swinging his legs off the bed.

“Here, in London, at my uncle's house. I know how much you hate to disapparate, but we'll have to do it since it's the safest way to get there.”

“Is it too far away from here?” he asked. “We could walk there...”

“It's not,” she said. “But it wouldn't be well received by them.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked down, but felt her gentle hands cupping his cheeks softly, and relaxed. Despite of his dislike for magical travel, he would do it for her.

“We're here on Newt's orders, remember? We'll go and see them, ask if they can help, and leave. Simple and easy.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “I'll go and take a bath so I can change.”

“Good. I'll find us some breakfast in the meantime.”

He saw her as she rose, headed for the door, and closed it. He imitated her, but headed for the bathroom instead of downstairs. When he came out, freshly shaven and bathed, she was sitting in a chair, staring out of the window. Her tea had gotten cold, and her breakfast was untouched.

“Are you nervous?” he asked.

“No,” she said.

“Are you scared?”

“Not for me.”

“Not for... you?”

She gave him a desperate look, and he didn't ask. If they were going together, and she wasn't afraid of something happening to her, then she was afraid for _him_.

“Shall we go?”

Mathilda nodded, getting up quickly.

“I have asked Tom if we could apparate in and out of this room for the sake of avoiding a scene, and he has agreed. Hold on to my arm and get ready, Credence.”

“I hate this,” he mumbled, pulling down his suit jacket to smooth it out.

“Only twice today, Credence. Then, we'll go to Diagon Alley so you can buy nice trinkets in magical shops.”

“Is that alley far from here?”

“No, the entrance is right behind the Leaky Cauldron.”

“Oh, good.”

He was nodding absentmindedly, watching her as she pinned a family crest in place upon her chest, when a thought occurred to him and his brow furrowed.

“I don't have any money,” he said. “How can I pay for any magical trinkets in Diagonal Alley if...?”

“ _Diagon_ Alley,” she corrected. “And anything you want will be my treat, unless you want repellent for carnivorous slugs, which I won't get for you.”

“Do _you_ have money, then?” he asked.

“Enough to last me a lifetime. Ready?”

He was still processing her last statement when her hand took his arm and launched them into the tight darkness of disapparating that he had begun to dislike passionately.


	9. Family Matters

 

Credence opened his eyes again when everything stilled around him and Mathilda's hand let go of him. They were standing in a small square, hiding behind a twisted tree that shielded them from any onlookers. She walked by his side until they left the square, and stood in front of an elegant row of townhouses that had seen better days. 

“We're here,” she said. “Number 12, Grimmauld Place.”

He squinted his eyes, looking at the houses that seemed carved into the dirty London street of Grimmauld Place. He counted, fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, and… eleven?

“There is no number 12,” he said.

“There is, you just have to come closer.”

She laced her arm with his, walking beside him across the street – and then he saw it. The wall, which still seemed solid to him, had begun moving to accommodate and reveal the missing number 12.

“They hid it centuries ago,” Mathilda said. “It was a simple way to keep non-magical people away from us, which is why only wizards and witches can see it.”

“Why?”

“It's... complicated. I don't know the full story of the house but I think that it has been here since before the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy came into effect, which means it may have been visible at some point. My family, however, upon choosing this as our ancestral home, probably hid it as soon as they could so they wouldn't be bothered by impures.”

“Impures?” he asked.

“It's a very long story,” she said. “And not a nice one. Maybe for some other day.”

They had arrived in front of the door, which now stood menacingly closed before their noses.

“Good luck, Credence,” she muttered.

Mathilda knocked on the polished surface of the black door, twice.

“Pretend like you know what you're doing,” she whispered. “If something startles you, ignore it for now. I'll explain everything later.”

The door opened with a soft creak, but there was no one there as far as Credence could see.

“The shameful miss Burke returns,” a voice said from below them.

She squared her jaw at very same moment that he noticed that the voice came from a small grayish creature with bulging eyes and bat ears that were covered in graying hairs.

“Good morning, Kreacher,” she said. “Tell my uncle Cygnus that I'm here.”

“Right away, miss Burke.”

“What-?” he asked.

“Later,” she said, crossing the doorframe with him behind.

The house seemed ancient. The anteroom where they stood was small and gloomy, covered in dark wallpaper. There was a staircase that seemed to go down onto some sort of basement, and one that seemed to go up into the first floor.

“I've always hated that thing,” she said suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Along the staircase that went upstairs, there was a collection of miniature heads that were hanging from old wooden plaques. She muttered something about it being barbaric.

“Miss Burke, my master waits for you in the drawing room. He would like for the impure to stay behind,” the creature from before said, returning from his trip to the first floor.

“Let's go,” she said, extending her hand to him. 

“Maybe I should stay,” he began.

“No, you'll come with me.”

He swallowed thickly. Despite of how naive he could be sometimes, he knew that the ‘impure’ they talked about was him. He no longer needed an explanation.

Mathilda was determined, however, and took his sleeve to get him moving.

“Mathilda...”

“Shh. I'll protect you.”

The room was huge, he thought. There was a large fireplace in the wall opposite from the windows, opulent, made for royalty.

In the furthest wall, there was an elaborate tapestry. In front of it, two people stood with their heads close together.

“Uncle Cygnus,” Mathilda said, nervous. “Mother.”

Both figures turned, freezing Credence in his spot. The man had a stern look in his eyes, though some curiousness shone as well. The woman had an icy look, a squared jaw, and if her looks could kill...

“Mathilda, dearest,” the man said. “Your mother and I were waiting for you.”

None of them moved, they simply glared at each other from across the room.

“Your brothers have missed you,” the man continued. “The youngest asks for you all the time –”

“Imagine my shame,” the woman interrupted. “When someone asks for you, and I have to _lie_.”

“I never asked you to lie,” Mathilda said. “I left for America, that's all.”

“You meddled with a muggle!” the woman yelled. “You lived with traitors to our blood, and rutted in bed with a filthy _mud blood_.”

Mathilda recoiled, as if she had been slapped harshly.

“I never did such a thing!” 

“Who was that man you killed, then?” the woman yelled. 

Mathilda's chin quivered, but she clenched her fist anyway.

“A muggle, someone who cared for me in the same way that I cared for him. His death was an accident.”

“You harlot!” the woman spat. “Filthy blood traitor! You lived with him, didn't you? As a marriage would! And now you come here, with another man of doubtful origins, asking for help? You should have stayed in America with that... _thing_.”

Three of the gas lamps in the room exploded. Mathilda's hair had come undone, and hot tears of anger were rolling down her face.

“Maybe I did,” she said, her voice quivering. “Maybe I should have stayed and broken off all ties with this family, but I'm here now, and I didn't come to speak with you, Belvina.”

There was a very tense silence in the room, one that no one seemed too keen on breaking.

“Well,” the man said. “My dear, I think it is clear, now, what I ought to do.”

He took a very deliberate and long step, in the direction of the tapestry.

With a flick of his wrist, his wand appeared in his hand. Mathilda took a step forward, tense as a spring. For the first time, Credence could see how scared she was, despite of her earlier denials.

“What have you come here to ask, Mathilda?”

“Your affiliation with a wizard known as Gellert Grindelwald.”

“And who, may I ask, sent you to ask us that?”

“Albus Dumbledore.”

The man blinked, momentarily forgetting what he had been about to do.

“We do not affiliate with Grindelwald,” he said. “We aren't stupid.”

“But you agree with his ideals, don't you?”

“Why shouldn't we?” he asked, shrugging. “It's time for things to go back to normal.”

“Very well,” she said. “Thank you.”

“I'm not done yet, Mathilda.”

The movement was so blurry that he had barely enough time to register it. The tapestry, which contained an extensive family tree, carried their ancestral name: Black. Credence had already spotted Mathilda's name, but he still found it hard to process when the man's wand jammed itself against the tapestry, blackening a spot below the marriage between Belvina Black and Herbert Burke – hers.

She let out a strangled cry, taking a few steps back. 

“You are no longer welcome in this house, nor are you allowed to enter the family vault at Gringotts. From here on, you are not a part of this family anymore.” 

She had retreated so much, and become so small, that he wasn't sure if she'd have enough strength to get them out of there.

“Leave,” the woman said. “Before I kill you.”

Mathilda pulled her wand out of one of the folds in her dress, and quickly moved Credence so that he stood behind her.

“Before I do,” Mathilda said, taking a few calming breaths as her feet moved backwards. “I want you to know that my only hope is that this attitude will be the downfall of this ancient and noble house. I can’t wait until it happens; maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll still be alive to see it.”

With a tug, she and Credence disappeared, leaving behind everything she had ever considered home.

 

 

 


	10. Making Amends

She was crying. He had begun to think that she would never stop crying.

He could hear her, day and night, curled up on her bed and crying. She had lost everything, he reasoned. But he was feeling lonely, and desperate to have her back.

“You need to get out of bed,” he said, kneeling next to her. 

“What for?”

“The fight. _Our_ fight.”

Their eyes would lock, and then hers would fill with water until she was crying again.

One night, when he had simply had enough, he decided to stop speaking to her.

It would be less painful, maybe, if he was busy ignoring her. Maybe she'll even get a taste of her own medicine and end that ridiculous silence that had taken over the room.

“Credence?”

“Yes?”

She was staring out of the window, which opened onto the deserted London street below them. Her body was stiff, her arms folded in front of her chest.

“I'm sorry.”

“Why?”

Mathilda turned. Her eyes were shiny, rimmed red, and conveying a thorough embarrassment. 

“For everything,” she said tremulously. “I shouldn't have brought you to London. All you've done is witness the horror that was being part of my family.”

“No,” he said. “I've seen many other things.”

“Like what? Tom's dirty old pub?”

“I've gotten to see you,” he said. “The many sides of you and your strength when...”

“...when I was kicked out of my own home?”

“They weren't good to you,” he said, loud. “They were mean and rude and you... You're not like _that_. You're too good for them.”

“How can you be sure? They're my family, the same blood runs through our veins...”

“Blood isn't all,” he stated. “Sometimes your _blood_ is bad, and they don't treat you like they should. But, you can surround yourself with others who care about you, regardless of blood.”

“Like you've done with Newt?”

He nodded.

“And like you can do with me,” he added. “If you like.”

Her eyes filled with tears again, but somehow, he knew that they weren't the same type of tears than before. He reached out to her, letting his fingers brush against her arm. 

“I'd like that,” she said. “Thank you, Cre-Credence.”

She hiccupped, ran her hand over her cheeks to push away her tears, and smiled softly. 

“I'll stay with you,” he said. “I don't care if you were disowned or if you lost your money and power. I'll stay.”

“I don't care about the money,” she said. “It's been years since I started taking my money out of the family vault. I knew they'd kick me out, eventually.”

“That's the smart girl that I know.”

She grinned, and out of nowhere, threw her arms around his neck. He staggered, surprised, but soon found himself patting her waist to bring her closer.

“I’ll help you get through this,” he said. “I promise.”

 

 

 


	11. Renewed Friendship

“What was that thing, the other day?”

“Where?”

Credence rolled his eyes and smiled, despite himself. They were walking slowly, arm in arm, through the undulating streets of Diagon Alley. Mathilda was slightly happier, and definitely calmer than she'd been in days. It felt nice, he thought, to have his friend back.

“At that grim old house,” he said. “A very ugly creature greeted us...”

“Oh!” she yelled. “Yes, yes. That was a house elf, a servant.” 

“Do they have names?”

“They do,” she said, nodding slowly. “That one was called Kreacher, and he's probably the nastiest of them all.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Come on, Credence! You saw him!”

He scrunched his nose, pretending to think about it. 

“You're right.”

She suddenly let go of his arm and walked a few steps ahead of him to inspect a sign in one of the stores. He watched her from a few feet away, noticing the sparkle in her eyes that he had missed. Mathilda wasn't sad anymore, everything about her said so.

Her dress was plain but nice, in a deep violet shade that brought out her eyes. Her hair was, once again, floating messily around her head in a shock of dark brown curls. She looked beautiful to him, almost unbelievably so.

“Are you hungry, Credence?” she asked, taking him out of his stupor.

“Me? No, not much. Why? Are you?”

“Not really,” she said. “But the ice cream at Fortescue is really good, so maybe we could stop by later.”

He nodded, feeling a strange flutter in his chest when her hands touched his arm again.

“Let's go to Gringotts,” she suggested. “You'll see the magical bank, meet some more nasty creatures, and maybe see a dragon.”

“A dragon?” he asked, incredulous.

“We might have had more chances of seeing it if we had come before, but alas... I don't know where my chamber is, so there might still be an opportunity.”

“Mathilda, there's no way a dragon could fit inside of a building in this alley. Aren't they big?”

“Oh, they're huge. but they're not _inside_ a building. They are below.”

“Below?”

“Oh, yes. Gringotts' vaults are underground, deep in the caverns that support this alley. That's why it's the safest place in the world.”

“I bet dragons have a lot to do with that, too...”

“Quite possibly.”

“Are they dangerous?”

“Definitely. But some people are trained to deal with them. I've learned most of what I know about them from Newt.”

“In his book?”

“Yeah.”

“I wish I had it. He promised me a copy but we haven't had time...”

“It's hard, I know,” she said. “But, when this is over, I promise it'll be better. In fact, if Flourish and Blotts carries them, I’ll get one for you.”

 

 

 


	12. Banking Troubles

The bank was bigger than he'd thought. After they had gone through the gates, and greeted the goblins, Credence had stood mesmerized in the middle of the atrium, watching everything with renewed curiosity. So much, he realized, that he hadn't even noticed the angry words exchanged between the goblin before them and Mathilda.

“I refuse to leave without an explanation,” she said.

“Miss, you have been disinherited. You cannot enter that chamber.”

“I'm not requesting entrance to the Black family chamber. I am requesting to see my personal chamber, which I opened when became of age almost eight years ago.”

“All your assets are being withheld from you, under your family's request. That includes your personal chamber.”

She stomped her foot, hard enough for the heel to leave a mark on the polished stone. She seemed to notice him there, standing awkwardly around her, as if he had suddenly appeared. Her head perked up, and she turned to the goblin again.

“What if I were to add another person into the account so they can also access the chamber?”

“How so...?”

“Well, you see, I am to be married soon and I wish for my future husband to be able to manage our finances – including that money.”

“What is the name of your future husband?”

“Credence Barebone,” she said. “He's American – you won't find him in your records.”

“Is that him?” the goblin asked, tilting his small head in his direction.

“Yes, it is,” she said, taking his arm. “He gets nervous and he’s a little shy, so forgive him if he doesn't say much.”

“When will the wedding be?” the goblin asked, slightly suspicious.

“In a week's time.”

“Where?”

“Hogsmeade. All my friends from Hogwarts will be in attendance.”

The goblin was obviously mistrustful. It seemed too easy – just when her family disinherits her, she shows up with a very convenient husband that needs access to her money. Mathilda noticed as well, and he could have sworn he saw her taking out her wand, pointing it upwards, and muttering something.

“Very well, I'll add his name,” the goblin said, shuddering almost imperceptibly.

He turned, retiring to find some paperwork, and leaving the pair behind.

“Why did you do that?” Credence hissed, visibly flustered.

“What? I need access to that money for our sake – or do you think things get paid by themselves in the magical world?”

“No, of course not! But, to lie like that...?”

“It's for our benefit.”

“My name will be on your bank account forever!”

“So? That's not a problem, we can always change it back.”

“I'm not marrying you!” he whisper-shouted. “That's why it's a problem! How will you explain that?”

She shrugged, non-committedly. 

“I'll think of something later.”

He was going to say something else, but the goblin returned and he was unable to finish his tirade. Credence huffed, looking away.

“Mister Barebone?” the goblin said. “Here are your keys.”

He threw her a harsh look that she pretended to ignore, and opened the palm of his hand. The goblin, with a mildly unfocused gaze, placed a heavy key in the middle of it.

“Follow me, Mr. Barebone,” he said. “Ms. Burke, you can wait here.”

This time, Credence clearly saw how she used her wand to cast a spell. The goblin was stunned for a second, he shuddered again, his eyes unfocused even more, and he allowed her to follow them as well.

“What did you do?” he whispered, once they had disappeared behind the door that would take them underground.

“I used a _Confundo_ charm,” she said, using her hands to pull herself onto the cart that hung dangerously from the rusty tracks in front of them.

“He's just... confused...? He seems more...”

“I didn't curse him,” she said. “My family may be willing to use unforgivable curses on children and other creatures, but I'm not. I simply stunned and confused him so we could enter. Besides, it's not my fault that I got an Extraordinary in my Charms OWL.”

He huffed again, slightly more placated. 

The ride was bumpy and turbulent in places, but it was over quickly. He climbed out of the cart first, and gave her a hand to help her out. They waited, side by side, until the goblin stood in front of one of the heavy doors.

“No dragons today,” she said. “Sorry, Credence.”

He shrugged. They hadn't come for dragons, after all.

“Mr. Barebone, your key?”

He took a step closer, leaving the key in the goblin's hand. He approached the door, placed the key inside the keyhole, and opened. The chamber was, much to his dismay, filled with money.

“Mathilda, I can't accept any of this – we need to leave.”

“No,” she said, stern. “Just grab a few handfuls, _then_ , we'll go.”

“I can't. This isn't my money. You take it.”

“I can't! The goblin gave _you_ permission to enter, not me.”

He blinked, beginning to feel desperate. He didn't feel comfortable taking money that wasn't his, especially when it came in such quantities – he felt like nothing more than a dirty robber. He took a deep breath, and in two quick strides he entered the chamber, grabbed some of the money, and exited.

“Thank you, Credence,” she said dryly. 

“Never make me do that again.”

“I will if I have to,” she said. “We're both running away from something or someone, and I happen to have the gold that we need to survive.”

He dropped the coins in her hands and walked away, leaving her to take care of closing the chamber. He didn't help her back into the cart, and he didn't offer his arm again for her to take.

“I would like to go back to the Leaky Cauldron, please.”

“Have it your way,” she said, cold as ice. “I have a few more things to take care of.”

He saw it, then, in her eyes and posture, that something that made her different from him, that darkness that was inside of her. It didn't matter how much he tried to tell himself otherwise, Mathilda had every bit of her family in her. Perhaps, she even considered him a pawn to do her bidding. 

“Fine,” he said, turning his heel and walking away.

He left her standing there, arms crossed and brow furrowed, while he opened himself a path among the shoppers. _Let her do as she wants_ , he thought. _As long as it doesn't involve me_.

Mathilda, instead, was being eaten on the inside by that feeling of guilt that so often accompanied her interactions with Credence. She hadn't intended to be forceful, but she needed the money and he was conveniently there. She had been hopeful that he would understand.

Now, he was angry with her, thinking Merlin knows what... _I need a peace offering_ , she thought. _Something that says, 'I know this is hard, but if we trust each other, it'll be easier.'_

The glass windows of Flourish and Blotts suddenly appeared in her line of view, and so did the slightly discolored advertisement for “ _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ ," by Newt Scamander.

In a split second, she took the decision. She said she'd give it to him, right?

Besides, no matter how great Fortescue's ice cream was, it was going to melt before she could give it to him.

She entered the shop, touching the delicate new coins between her fingers, and thinking about the smile she'd get from him.


	13. Bad Omens

Their room at the Leaky Cauldron was a disaster when Mathilda returned. The table by the window had been upturned, her mattress had been slashed by something, and his lay in a crumpled heap in a corner. She dropped the book from her hands, letting it fall clattering to the ground.

“Credence?!” she yelled. 

There was no answer.

The bathroom door was open, hanging from its hinges, and there was a massive water puddle from the exploded sink. Everything else was in a similar state of disarray – and there was still no sign of Credence.

Mathilda ran out of the room, heading straight for the bar. Tom, the bartender, was busy swiping the counter, but looked up with a smile when he saw her.

“Miss Burke, what –”

“Has anyone gone up to my room?” she asked, breathless.

“Well, no,” the man said. “Only your friend, about 30 minutes ago.”

She felt her heart stop in her chest. If Credence had gone up to their room at least 30 minutes before then, who knew where he'd be right now?

“Did you hear anything unusual?” she asked. 

“Miss, is everything alright?”

“No, it isn't, Tom! He's gone, Credence is... _gone_.”

The words hit her like a hippogriff flying at full speed. It was one thing to think about it, but to actually say it felt much worse.

“Tom,” she said, trying to remain calm. “My friend is missing. He's not in our room.”

“He hasn't come down.”

“I know, he must have been taken... The room is in shambles so he probably refused... Don't worry, I'll pay for it,” she added, seeing his desperate face.

“What can I do?”

“Find me an owl,” she said. “I need to send a message. And...” 

She stopped, remembering the room upstairs. There had to be something there, a clue or a mark, anything that could give away his location.

“I'll be upstairs, Tom,” she finished, nodding distractedly.

The room was just as she had left it, messy and broken. She kneeled down on the ground, letting the rough wood of the floors bring her back to reality. Credence was gone and she needed to act, fast. Sending an owl to Newt was in order, so he could come to help her. But where would they go?

“ _Revelio_ ,” she whispered, foregoing her wand.

A trail appeared on the ground, the work of black magic – drag marks, probably belonging to Credence. They led to his mattress, which was still a shapeless mound in the corner of the room.

“ _Accio_ ,” she said, standing in front of it.

A necklace flew to her hand. It was small, silver, and clearly Grindelwald's symbol – the triangle crossed by a vertical line and with a circle in the middle. 

She didn't realize she had fallen until much later, when Tom came with the owl she asked him. He stood, shocked, as she wiped the dry tear tracts from her face. She wanted to say that she was fine, but the words didn't form in her throat. He helped her up, keeping a strong grip on her shoulders even after she was on her feet again. 

“Are you going to be alright, miss?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding weakly. _Because I’m going to find Credence, even if it's the last thing that I do._

\---

She was getting changed, methodically and slowly. _Comfortable shoes_ , she thought, _I should take those_. 

The owl to Newt had been sent about an hour earlier, and she had continued to look for clues while he arrived. The room was messier, if that was even possible, but she had managed to find a particular leaf that belonged to a magical tree that was hiding in plain sight in a muggle forest – even better, it wasn't too far away from London.

She had replaced her fancy purple dress by one of her more modest ones – a brown checkered piece – and had put on an open sweater just in case. Her ankle high boots were secured, and everything she needed was hiding in the purse she carried at her side.

Mathilda had waited for Newt for what she considered to be enough time. She grabbed a quill, some parchment, and wrote him a letter. She ran out of the room, leaving the door open, went downstairs, and found Tom cleaning candle wax from one of the tables.

“Give this to Newton Scamander,” she said, placing the letter in Tom's hands. “And here's this, for the inconveniences.”

She dropped several golden galleons next to her letter, leaving the poor Tom shocked with the amount.

“Miss Burke, I can't accept this,” he said. “It's more than twice of what I needed to charge you.”

“It doesn't matter,” she said. “Keep it. Thank you, Tom.”

Mathilda tried giving him a weak smile, but she couldn't manage it. She turned around, held on tighter to her bag, and went in the back to enter Diagon Alley. Her feet hadn't completely touched the cobblestone street when she spun onto herself, vanishing into thin air – and wishing with all her strength that she would find Credence alive.


	14. Fallen Soldier

 

He staggered, tripped, and fell to his knees. The impact shocked him, but he couldn't waste any time. Grindelwald was upon him, glaring angrily at his hunched form over the grass of the clearing. There was a manic shine in his eyes when he pointed his wand at him. It was over, Credence realized, Grindelwald would be the last thing that he'd see before he died.

He could only hope that his friends would eventually find him – Newt, Tina, Queenie, and… Mathilda.

“ _Stupefy!!_ ”

The spell rang through the empty clearing. Grindelwald took a step back, easily blocking the spell directed at him, and looked in the direction from where it came.

Credence didn't know if what he felt was relief, but a strange feeling had overcome him. It was Mathilda, tired and worn-out, wearing a brown printed dress that he’d seen before and a tan shabby cardigan. Her hair was messier, curlier, and untamed as she kept her wand directed at Grindelwald.

“I didn't know you had a girlfriend, Credence,” Grindelwald said. “Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

She responded with a curse that shot out in a red beam from her wand and that he stopped with a flick of his hand.

“Not very fond of words, I see...”

She seemed possessed, throwing curses with different names under her breath. He blocked them all, but at least she had stalled him enough to give Credence a chance to recover.

“Get behind me, Credence,” she said. “And don't move unless I tell you to.”

He obeyed blindly, immediately moving to take cover behind her. She had conjured up a shield, which kept them relatively safe. 

He was surprised to see how strong she was. It had taken several MACUSA wizards to stop him the first time, and she was single handedly keeping him away.

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” she yelled, shooting a scarlet beam. “Credence, I need you to listen to me.”

“Yes?” he asked, nervous.

“I can't hold him for too long. I need you to run as fast as you can, away from here, when I tell you to. Okay?”

“Y-yes,” he said. “And you?”

Her heavy silence was the only answer that she gave him, while she threw more silent curses at the wizard before them.

“I won't leave you alone here with him!”

“You must, Credence. He's looking for you, and if I can give you the opportunity to escape, then I'll do it. It’s my fault this is happening, after all.”

“But... At the expense of your life?”

“It's a risk I'll have to take.”

There was no arguing against her, but he had to try for the sake of his own sanity. He started to cry, and held on to her free hand.  _Not after our fight,_ he thought, _I couldn’t stand it if…_

“Mathilda, I can't let you do that... I –”

“No,” she said. “Don't say anything. I know.”

“Then why –?”

“Get ready,” she said, her voice strained. “On the count of three, you'll run as fast as you can. Alright?”

“Mathilda, please…”

“One!”

“I'm sure there's something else that we can do...”

“Two!”

“I don't want to leave you...”

“Three! Go, Credence!! And don't look back.”

She was a rock, but she was cracking – he could hear it and feel it in the air. With tears in his eyes, he obeyed. She moved with him for a few seconds, giving him the chance of getting far away through the trees. He heard Grindelwald scream and wail, but she held strong.

Then, she ran at him. She knocked him to the ground, but she lost her wand in the process, which left her vulnerable. He pushed her off after a few seconds, and recovered much faster than she did. He was in front of her, with his wand pointed at her heart.

“You're noble,” he said. “Very gallant. It's a shame that it will be for nothing.”

“Nothing?” she asked, kneeling on the ground in front of him. “He escaped, didn't he?”

“Like it's going to be hard to find him after I kill you…”

“He's smart, and we're not alone –”

Credence turned, shaking. A long, drawn-out wail had stopped him in his tracks. He had gotten away, very far away, with those precious seconds that she had given him to escape. But her voice was unmistakable and that pain that she felt was tearing in his soul as well. 

He turned, just barely, and found a crack between the thick trees to look at the clearing. She was kneeling in front of him, clutching her shoulder with her features contorted in pain. When she removed her hand, slowly and deliberately, he could see that it was stained red.

She had told him not to look back, but he couldn't help it. Even then, the mere sight of her blood made him take a few steps back. He was still watching, from further back, when Grindelwald laughed. Mathilda smiled weakly, and there was a sudden flash of green that struck her right over where her heart was. Credence was petrified, momentarily blinded by the green light. When he looked again, there was no sign of her.

He took a few steps forward and was unable to find her, no matter how hard he looked. She must have fallen, he realized, and was now hidden by the thick bushes on the ground.

“Credence!”

He turned quickly, expecting to find Grindelwald, but it was only Newt.

“Let's go!” he said.

“No,” Credence croaked. “Mathilda, she's down there, we need to – there was a green flash and Grindelwald was there, but –”

“There's nothing we can do for her right now. You are our priority.”

Newt put a hand on Credence's shoulder, and soon he felt the unfamiliar sensation of being pushed through a tight tube that he had begun to dislike.

They were leaving that forest. Worse than that, they were leaving Mathilda.

 


	15. Green Flashes

 

“He has her!” Credence yelled, pulling at Newt's vest. “We need to go back -!”

They were back inside of Newt's suitcase, along with the Goldstein sisters. Queenie had been crying for a while, and her eyes were rimmed red even though she had stopped sobbing. Tina, instead, let desperation consume her from inside – she was rocking back and forth in her chair.

“She's in the forest, Credence. Grindelwald didn't take her,” Newt said for what felt like the thousandth time.

“But –”

“You saw a flash of green, didn't you?” Tina asked. “Are you certain, Credence?”

“Y-yes,” he said. “She was bleeding from her shoulder and then he pointed the wand at her and threw a green beam –”

Queenie began sobbing again, louder. Tina reached for Newt, tangling her fingers on the fabric of his coat.

“I can't believe it,” Queenie wailed. “She was such a good witch and now she's...”

“She's what?” Credence asked. “Is there something you are not telling me?”

“Credence,” Tina said softly, as if asking him to stop.

“He deserves to know,” Newt said, who had been the most controlled until then. “Credence, you must understand that green flashes are usually not a good sign.”

“Why? What can they do?”

Newt hesitated. When he spoke again, his voice was distant and pasty – as if he were reciting something he once read.

“A green flash is very characteristic of the killing curse. If Mathilda was kneeling there, unmoving, when you saw the flash, and she was gone when the light disappeared –”

“She's dead?” Credence asked, interrupting. “Is that what you are saying?”

Queenie let out another sob, and this time took refuge in her sister's arms, while Tina finally let a single silent tear roll down her face.

“I'm afraid she might be,” Newt said, keeping his voice controlled. “I'm sorry, Credence.”

He was processing everything, slowly. That's why Mathilda hadn't gotten up. That was why the sisters were crying. That's why Newt's voice was so distant.

“No,” Credence said. “She can't be. She's strong, she was holding him off!”

“No one has been able to survive the killing curse,” Newt said. “And if she was injured, it would have only made it harder for her to disapparate.”

“But –”

Newt shrugged, and Credence saw how the tears started to roll down his face as well.

“No,” he yelled. “I'm sure that if we go back, she'll be there – alive and well. We only left her behind and we need to find her.”

“All you'll find is her body,” Tina said. “It's better, Credence, if your last memory of her is a good one.”

“A good one?” he said, incredulous. “That wasn't a good moment. He – Grindelwald – would have killed us both if...”

He wasn't able to finish. If he would have killed them both, then he would have also been able to kill her as she stood alone.

“Credence is right,” Queenie said suddenly. “We can't leave her body there, she'll be eaten by beasts or worse... And Tilda deserves better than that.”


	16. Brotherly Love

There was no sign of Grindelwald in the forest when they returned. Credence and Newt retraced their steps from where they had disappeared, to the clearing where Mathilda had dueled Grindelwald.

There was a strange calmness over the surroundings of the clearing, as if something was waiting for things to return to normality before reappearing. 

“This place gives me the chills,” Queenie said. “Are you sure it's around here, Credence?”

“Yes,” he said.

“It has to be,” Tina said. “We can all feel that, right? It's a Dark Wizard's mark – there's something odd in the environment.”

No one could deny it, the clearing seemed haunted. The leaves barely rustled in the wind, the animals were all hidden, and the trees seemed darker and more menacing. But after a few minutes, it was obvious that there was nobody there.

“He must have taken her,” Credence said. “She can't be dead because then it wouldn't make sense for him to keep her... Right? She _has_ to be alive.”

“He could have done something with her body,” Newt said. “He could have hidden it, or he could have guessed that we'd come to find her –”

“What a cruel man!” Queenie wailed. “If he's truly around here, waiting to show his ugly face, I hope he comes out – I'll kill him myself.”

A sudden _crack_ startled them. Newt and Tina were quickly standing up, wands in hand, waiting for whatever had made that sound. Queenie, slowly, moved to stand close to Credence.

“Hold your charms,” a man yelled. “I'm a friend, not a foe.”

“Who is out there?” Newt asked.

The man appeared in the clearing, looking as someone who had definitely seen better days.

He was young, not even twenty, judging by his clean face and boyish features. His clothes were torn slightly, and covered in patches of dirt and dry blood. His hair was floating messily around his head, almost creating a puff of inky black curls that seemed too wild to be easily managed. He had a terrified expression in his eyes, as if he had seen death itself.

“My name is Phineas Burke,” he said. “I assume you must be Newt Scamander, along with the Goldstein sisters?”

“We are,” Newt said.

“B-Burke?” Queenie asked. “Like –?”

“Yes,” he said, cutting her off. “I need help, my sister, she –”

“Mathilda!” Credence yelled. “Where are you?”

A low groan coming from the bushes put them in movement, but no one was faster than Phineas, who had returned with the badly injured woman supported by one of his arms.

“Oh!” Tina said, running immediately next to her to help her stand up better.

Mathilda was alive, but barely. She was miraculously still conscious, breathing heavily, bleeding from a horrible gash on her shoulder, and pale as freshly fallen snow.

“What happened?” Tina asked. 

“You tell me,” Phineas said. “I have a watch that tells me where my family is, and it showed that my sister was in mortal danger. I thought of her and apparated, finding her in front of a maniac who was about to murder her.”

“You saved her,” Newt said, shocked. 

“I shouldn't have,” he said, squaring his jaw. “If Mother finds out –”

“She'll only find out if you tell her, Phineas,” Mathilda rasped. “I thank you for saving me.”

“You are lucky, sister. You were disowned from our Noble House, and we were told not to find you again because you have betrayed your blood –”

“You and Reggie have never been fond of rules...”

“Neither have you,” he said. “That's why I came.”

Mathilda nodded weakly, thinking, until a small smile took over her mouth.

“I couldn't say goodbye to either of you before Uncle Cygnus burned my name from the family tree,” she said. “Tell Reggie I love him, and know that I love you just as much, Phineas.”

“I know, Tilda,” he said. “Good luck.”

“Will I see you again?” she asked.

“I don't know. Maybe when Reggie learns to apparate.”

Mathilda's smile widened by a fraction of a second, and then her brother was gone, disappearing as fast as he had appeared.

“I'll get her inside the suitcase,” Newt said, overcome by emotion. “Take us and leave after that, so we can properly care for her.”

Credence, unable to believe anything that had happened in the past few hours, simply nodded while the Goldstein sisters waited, and then took his upper arms to leave behind the clearing.


	17. Priced Possession

Mathilda took a long time to recover. Her injuries were extensive, and despite the fact that she had escaped death, she was still endangered. 

Credence, worried as only he could feel, was reluctant to leave her side once he was able to enter the suitcase again. Thankfully, and after Queenie's intervention, they were able to move Mathilda into a bed in the Scamander house, which made her more accessible to everyone's care. Even Tina, with whom she still didn't get along too well, was seeing her regularly.

“I wish all of you would stop worrying so much over me,” she said one day, twirling a piece of thread that had come undone from the blanket that covered her. 

“Why?” Credence asked. “You are hurt.”

“I'm feeling better,” she said. “I swear it.”

“I'll speak with Newt so we can let you walk around the house, if that's what you want.”

“That’s not what I want, Credence. I want to go out again, and find Grindelwald so we can put an end to this.”

“I won’t let you face him again. He almost killed you once, Mathilda.”

And before she replied, he left the room. He wasn’t willing to bargain with her life, again, despite of anything she could say.

\---

Credence was angry, but still kept coming to her side. He sat quietly next to her, hoping that the right moment to talk would appear as if by magic. He wanted to make sure that she was fine. He _needed_ to know if she didn’t hate him. Because he knew that things had been tense between them, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

“Credence?”

He looked up from the bowl in his hands, fixating his eyes on her. Mathilda was better, sitting at the edge of the bed where she spent most of her day. She had regained her color, and almost returned to normal. But she hadn’t talked to him about that afternoon either.

“Yes?”

“I never apologized.”

“For?” he said, getting nervous.

“For forcing you to take the money from my chamber in the bank.”

Credence blinked, desperate to find the right words to fix everything between them.

“Mathilda, that's....”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I should have told you before, and asked you if you were okay with it.”

“It doesn't matter now,” he said, softly. “It's okay.”

It was, he realized. He had been upset, and rightfully so, but after everything… it didn’t matter. They were alive, and together.

She nodded softly, watching his carefully for a second, and began to swing her feet back and forth.

“If I hadn't,” she continued, “maybe you wouldn't have been angry. If you hadn't been angry, you wouldn't have run away. And if you hadn't run away, he... Well, he would have never caught you.”

“Yes, maybe,” he agreed. “But how can you really be sure? For all we know, you could have found me in that bedroom that night. We could have talked about what happened and –”

“I brought you a gift,” she said, cutting him off. “I mean, that night I got you something as a sign of peace. I thought it might make you less angry about the whole thing.”

She produced, from under her covers, a small parcel. It was a small rectangle, covered in a rustic brown paper bag.

“Open it,” she said, placing the package into his shocked hands. 

“Mathilda, you shouldn't have...”

“It was something you wanted,” she said. “And I was happy to get it for you.”

He took the package with gentle hands, letting his fingertips graze its surface delicately. It was a book, he realized, by the weight and feel of it. Credence removed the paper, and gasped at the sight.

“Newt's book,” he uttered, flipping the book in his hands. “This is Newt's book.”

“I thought you'd like it, given how you said that you wanted it and Newt hadn't had time to give you a copy.”

“Mathilda,” he said. “This is perfect.”

In a shocking moment, Credence took her in his arms and hugged her tightly. She was stiff for a second, but had soon found a way to be completely pressed against him.

“Are we okay?” she asked. “Can we still be friends?”

“It’s all I’m asking you for,” he said. “I don’t want to lose you – I _can’t_ lose you.”

 


	18. Something Strange

Newt smiled from the stairs of his house, down into the living room where Mathilda and Credence sat on the ground. She was resting her head on his shoulder, while he read in silence from a book. He was glad to see them together, happy, and as if everything that had happened the previous week had only been a bad dream.

He needed to break that bubble, however, because things weren't calm outside of their walls.

“A guest is coming today,” he announced, walking down the stairs.

He was pretending that he hadn't been standing there for a few minutes, but his heart still sank a little when he saw them separating slightly. 

“Who?” Mathilda asked.

“An old friend,” Newt said. “You might remember him when you see him.”

There was a spark of curiosity in her eyes, but Credence placed a hand on hers, and she fell back to her spot next to him. 

“Thanks for letting us know, Newt,” Credence said. “We'll be ready for his arrival.”

The hand that he had placed on hers squeezed her fingers, and she looked at him. They exchanged a nod, showing Newt the extent of their unspoken connection.

He continued his walk towards the kitchen, to alert the Goldstein sisters of the arrival of their ally – and wondering if, perhaps, there was something between those two that he hadn't considered before.

“Good afternoon, Newt,” Queenie said. “Tea?”

“Please,” he said, smiling. “Someone is coming later today.”

“Who?” Tina asked.

“A friend. He's going to help us with all of this.”

“It was about time,” Tina said. “We've been going blindly for long enough.”

“In more than one way,” Newt said, rubbing his temple. “Have you seen those two out there?”

“Who?” Queenie asked. “Credence and Mathilda?”

“Yes, don't they seem a bit... too close?”

“Well, they've been living closely for the past few weeks. They were bound to find some common ground and grow closer.”

“But... the way they act is so... intimate...”

“They're young,” Tina said. “If being with each other makes them happy, let them be. They deserve that happiness in their lives.”

Newt nodded, still deep in thought. What the sisters were saying made sense, and he couldn't deny that he was happy to see them like that. But, he worried that it wouldn't end well for them.

“Well, no matter,” he said. “Our guest will be here soon.”

 


	19. Unexpected Visitor

Dusk had fallen by the time they heard the knocks on the front door. Newt, as the owner of the house, took care of receiving their guest. The Goldstein sisters, Credence, and Mathilda waited in the living room.

Queenie was wearing a modest and beautiful dress in dusty rose satin with a white cardigan over it, while Tina had chosen an ensemble that matched her regular style of wide-legged navy pants and white blouse. Credence, in his newfound freedom when it came to dressing casually, had chosen a simple pair of brown slacks, a dark green shirt, and a printed vest that matched his pants. Mathilda, who somehow kept conjuring clothes out of thin air, was wearing a dress in olive green velvet, making her look almost royal in Newt's living room.

The man who came into the room was almost as imposing as Mathilda, and dressed accordingly. His deep violet coat contrasted nicely against his bushy beard, he was unbelievably tall, and he carried himself with a certain poise that was hard to miss. Next to him, many of them were easily outshined. 

“Ladies,” he greeted. “Gentlemen.”

They all nodded, and Mathilda stiffened a bit next to Credence.

“Newton, be a good lad and introduce me to your friends,” the man said. “They all seem rather curious.”

“Right! Of course! This is professor Albus Dumbledore, from Hogwarts.”

The name meant something to the sisters, Credence realized, because they nodded and smiled softly. Mathilda stood straighter, rearranged her collar, and took a deep breath.

“You must be the Goldstein sisters,” Dumbledore said. “Newton has told me many things about your adventures. And I assume this young man must be Credence Barebone, while... Do my eyes deceive me? Mathilda Burke?”

Mathilda took a sudden step forward, bowed, and when she looked up, her dress had magically transformed into a rich royal-blue silk model.

“Exceptional as usual,” Dumbledore said. “I was very glad to give you that Extraordinary in your Transfiguration OWL. I see your use of non-verbal magic has become stronger, too.”

He winked at her, and she returned to her spot, feeling proud.

“Well, I believe we do have a lot of catching up to do,” he said. “But, alas, business comes first... What is it that you have found about Grindelwald's whereabouts?”

“He's here,” Newt said. “Mathilda saw him.”

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled, and he turned to look at her.

“Where?”

“In Dean's Forest,” she said. “He took Credence and I went to find them. I tracked Grindelwald there, to a large wiggentree.”

“Do you have any idea of what his plans are?”

“No.”

“Did he hurt you?”

It was a question that no one had asked her. When they had arrived at Newt's house, Mathilda's wound in her shoulder had been closed already – by her brother, they supposed. But, by the way that her lip was trembling, they knew there was more to the story than just that.

“He used the _diffindo_ charm, but with the intention of hurting me.” 

“Did you apply Essence of Dittany?”

“No, I didn't have any. My brother, he –”

“You've seen Phineas?” Dumbledore asked, raising his eyebrows. 

“He saved me,” she said. “Grindelwald tried to use the killing curse on me, but Phineas apparated and saved us.”

“Lucky,” Dumbledore said. “I thought you may never see him again, if the expression on young Regulus' face was any indication of how Belvina decided to end affairs.”

“Belvina Black didn't burn my name from the family tree,” Mathilda said. “Cygnus Black did. Nonetheless, their names mean nothing to me anymore.”

“Their affiliation?”

“They agree with Grindelwald's ideas of blood purity, but they don't openly support him.”

Then, Credence realized when he had heard the man's name before – in Mathilda's house, the day she had been disowned; even worse, he seemed to know all about that. Would he know about her lie to the goblins?

“We must speak, young lady,” Albus Dumbledore said, winking at her. “If you don’t mind, I would prefer to speak alone.”

“No,” Credence said, taking her shoulder. “If you want to speak to her, I'll stay.”

Dumbledore eyed him carefully, as if he were staring right through his soul. 

“Very well,” Dumbledore agreed. “I needed to touch on something related to Gringotts anyways.”

Newt noticed that Credence stiffened at the mention of the magical bank, so he did quick work of getting the sisters away from the living room to give them some privacy. Besides, if what Dumbledore said was right, maybe they shouldn't intrude in something as personal as Mathilda and her family.

“You caused quite an impression in Gringotts,” Dumbledore said as soon as they were all alone. “But, messing with the goblins is dangerous business.”

“The _confundo_ charm doesn't cause long lasting damage.”

“No, but it makes interesting questions arise. Like, for example, an engagement?”

“I needed to enter my chamber,” she said, shrugging. “I did what I had to do.”

Dumbledore kept her eyes on her for a very long time. He didn't say anything, he simply looked.

“You are every bit a Black – whether you want to admit it or not, and even despite of your last name,” he said after a few minutes. “You may have been a Slytherin in all your right, but you would have done just as well as a Ravenclaw.”

“Highly doubtful,” she said. “Besides, a Ravenclaw wouldn't be caught doing something illegal in the same way that a Slytherin might. They tend to analyze the consequences before acting.”

“That's true....” Dumbledore said, not missing the look that Mathilda exchanged with Credence. 

“How are my brothers?” she suddenly asked, turning her attention towards the Professor again. “Well, Regulus is the only one left in Hogwarts now.”

“He's doing well,” Dumbledore said. “Your mother told him that you disgraced the family name and that you would never see each other again, which affected him – he loves you.”

“Yes, I can imagine. I haven’t seen him in a few years, so I supposed the news weren’t well received.”

“But… he'll recover. If Phineas has seen you, it is only a matter of time before Regulus learns how to find you, too. The three of you had a very distinct dislike for rules, so I doubt this will come as a surprise.”

“I know they'll find me.”

“You must still be very careful, though. These aren't peaceful times.”

“We will find him and end this, professor. I swear it on Merlin.”


	20. Heated Conversations

 

“Was that man implying that Mathilda was disowned?” Queenie asked heatedly, stirring her tea with a vigorous hand.

“It seemed like it, but... She didn't mention anything,” Tina added.

“Belvina and Cygnus Black are ruthless people by reputation,” Newt explained. “The Blacks are known for their pureblood predilection, and for being nasty to even their family members. If Mathilda is truly related to them, she's the odd one out.”

“How awful!” Tina huffed. “She's so kind and sweet....”

“But if she was disowned,” Queenie continued. “What does that mean for her?”

“I can only assume. They are wealthy, so it's very likely that she'll be excluded from the family fortune,” Newt said softly. “They might pull some strings in the Ministry to even have her detained.” 

“They can do that?!”

“Only if they are incredibly petty.”

“We must ask her,” Queenie said. “We must also help her. Who knows if this is our fault, too? We sent her there, didn't we?”

“Yes, but we didn't ask her to put herself at risk like that either.”

“You're both forgetting who you're dealing with,” Dumbledore said with a small smile, as he interrupted their meeting. “Mathilda is a smart witch, and she knew the risks involved in asking Cygnus Black for help – but she also knows that it's for the betterment of our cause.” 

“She lost her family!” Queenie lamented.

“And gained a better and more loving one in the process,” Dumbledore said. “She doesn't regret doing what she did, I'm sure of it.”

\---

Later that night, when Dumbledore had retired to an empty room in Newt’s house, and everyone else was considering doing the same, Credence sat alone on an empty chair in the living room. He was still a bit shaken by the conversation he witnessed that afternoon between Mathilda and the Professor, because he had never stopped to consider the consequences of her actions until then.

Even so, he was sure that she didn’t regret it. She wasn’t like them, he thought, she was better.

A sudden sound startled him, and he looked up to find Newt and Tina at the top of the stairs, talking softly among themselves. He said nothing, he didn’t move an inch. The fire had long been extinguished, so they wouldn’t be able to see him from their position.

He watched, surprised, as Tina took Newt’s hand lovingly, and he leaned closer to press a kiss against her cheek.

 _Are they together?_ He wondered. It seemed like it, but if they were, they had been extremely secretive about it. It was the first time he saw them acting like that, and then, he remembered.

He had missed a lot when he had been hiding in Newt’s suitcase. They didn’t even get to share a lot of time together before he left for London with Mathilda, and besides, Tina and Mathilda didn’t get along that well either… It was very probable that he had simply not seen it.

Finally, he saw them leave, hand in hand, to the small study room that took them straight to the balcony. Once they disappeared through the door, he climbed the stairs as quietly and quickly as he could, and took refuge in his room.

He would need to pay more attention to things like those, he figured as he changed and settled in bed for the night.


	21. New Beginnings

“Sometimes,” he said. “I think about that morning at Grimmauld Place.”

Mathilda turned around, looking away from the window she had been standing by. It was the next morning after their conversation with the Professor, and she looked as if she had spent the night thinking about it. Her dress was simple, far from that she had worn the night before.

“Why?”

“All of our problems in London began there.”

“You're not wrong,” she said, shrugging. “But I don't understand the point of this.”

“My family wasn't good to me either.”

“Did they cast you out, too?”

“No,” he said.

He extended his hand, letting his palm face upwards. It was scarred, mangled, and it made her insides churn. She moved her hand over his, covering it tenderly.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered.

“What for?”

“I don't know. I just am.”

They stayed quiet for a few seconds, until her fingers intertwined with his, and they held each other for a bit. Like he had seen Newt do the night before with Tina.

“Thank you,” he said, nervous. “For understanding.”

“That's what I'm here for, right?”

He hadn't realized how close they were, how much they had approached while they spoke. Suddenly, however, they were face to face. And his only impulse was to bring her even closer.

Credence slowly raised his free hand, pushed some hair behind her ear, and held her cheek with it. And, he was kissing her – his lips had connected with hers softly, barely brushing them. 

It felt good, he realized. The closeness, the feeling, _her_. 

But, to his surprise – since he didn't think it could get better – she was kissing him back. It was like getting a good taste of sunshine after a long winter, warm and pleasant, safe and sweet, lovely from every direction. Mathilda felt like that next to him, as if the sun itself had come to warm him exclusively. He wanted to kiss her forever, to never be separated from her, and to make her as happy as she was making him – but he needed to breathe. 

Credence could still feel her, breathing tremulously in front of him. He kept his eyes closed, afraid that he had misread, that she was upset. Her hands closed around his cheeks, the pads of her thumbs brushing softly over his cheekbones. And her lips were on his again, making him smile.

He wanted to laugh, to scream, shout, and spin her around, but she was kissing him, tangling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. And he never wanted to stop kissing her.

It was her who broke that kiss, searching for air to breathe. He chuckled, daring to open his eyes a little bit. She was grinning, her eyes were twinkling. 

“Is this okay?” he asked. 

“Yes,” she said. “It's more than okay.”

“Can I continue kissing you?”

“Yes,” she said, throwing caution to the wind and leaning towards him for another kiss. 

He caught her half way, enjoying the small happy sounds that she made every once in a while. It was the first time in months that he felt so light, so carefree. And he was going to hold on to it for as long as he could.


	22. Guaranteed Fear

Bleakness had crept upon the house again. There had been another attack, and they were still helpless. Credence realized that even the stolen moments of happiness with Mathilda, usually shared in empty corners, were few and far in between. And they simply didn't hold the same magic anymore, since almost nothing did.

Dumbledore had left them with the same uncertainty as before; a mess of half-truths and rumors about Grindelwald, a feeling of hopelessness, and a handful of riddles for possible solutions.

It was unnerving to all occupants of the Scamander household.

Mathilda, now fully healed, was anxious to do something other than pick up a new book daily. Credence was anxiously waiting for her to stop coming up with crazier schemes every day.

“We need to leave, Credence,” she said one day.

“No. Why would we do that?”

“Because we are doing nothing here.”

“We are doing _something_. We are reading and learning about the magical world.”

“I would prefer it if you practiced magic.”

“I don't have a wand.”

“We can get one in Diagon Alley. I'm sure Newt wouldn't mind if we went there for a few hours.”

“No,” Credence said. “We won't leave this house.”

“Why not?”

“Because the last time we left a safe place, I was taken and you almost died!”

She took a step back, crossing her arms in front of her chest. 

“Fine,” she said. “Then, we'll use my wand.”

“No.”

“Credence...”

“I said 'no,' Mathilda.”

“Why are you so afraid of magic?”

“I'm _not_ afraid of it, I'm afraid about what it might bring upon us.”

“Cre- what?”

“I almost lost you once,” he said. “I can't lose you again. And I can't put the others at risk.”

“But, you wouldn’t be doing that. I don’t understand –”

“Grindelwald is after me,” he said. “We are safe here, and here is where we’ll stay. Is that clear?”

“Fine,” she agreed after a while. “We’ll stay here for as long as we can.”

 


	23. Surprises, Surprises

 

Things, however, weren't as easy as Credence would have wanted. As soon as Dumbledore heard that Mathilda was back to her normal state, he called for her to join him in Scotland to continue the search for Grindelwald. After a long discussion, Newt and Mathilda agreed to stop Credence from going with her, since it would be too dangerous for him to be out in a place where he could be easily found.

Newt, also desperate to do something else, joined his brother in Albania to search for any possible leads. The Goldstein sisters, who stayed behind, had become Secret Keepers of the Scamander household, under a  _Fidelius_  Charm put in place by Mathilda.

And Credence did nothing but waiting by a window, hoping for an owl bearing a letter from either of them. His solace were the sisters, and his copy of Newt's book.

“The wait is agonizing,” he said one day after dinner. “Isn't it?”

“What wait?” Queenie asked. 

“Their absence,” Credence said. “I miss them.”

“We all do,” Tina said sharply. “It's nothing new.”

Queenie placed a hand on Tina's arm, and told her to go and take a bath. Tina obeyed, dropping the cloth she'd been holding.

“She received word from Newt last night,” Queenie said softly. “She's scared for him, but he said he'll be back soon.”

“No word from Mathilda?”

“No, but Dumbledore did write. He said she's very busy right now.”

“Did he say where she was?”

Queenie blinked a few times and bit her lip, thinking.

“She's in Germany,” she said softly. “Grindelwald is gathering support there, so she's investigating.”

“He could kill her.”

“She's protected, and she knows how to defend herself, too.”

“But –”

“Dumbledore said that she would be back before the wedding,” Queenie said. “Which is why Tina is so worried about Newt.”

“W-Wedding?!” Credence asked, alarmed. “Who? When?”

“Well, Tina and Newt, of course!” Queenie said excitedly. “That's why Tina is worried sick! She doesn't want to be a groom-less bride.”

He suddenly remembered that night when he had seen Tina and Newt as they held hands and disappeared towards the balcony. He hadn’t thought about it since, but now the news of their wedding made a lot more sense.

“When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me?”

“Oh, it was extremely unexpected,” she said. “They’ve been together for a while, but he popped the question just before leaving for Albania.”

He was now aware of the extent of Newt and Tina’s relationship, but he didn’t think they would be marrying in a time of war. It seemed sudden, uncalculated… but, he figured, either of them could die at any moment during a fight, so they might as well take the leap forward.

“Where was I when he asked?” he asked.

“Moping over Mathilda leaving,” she said.

“I wasn't!”

She threw him a knowing look, one that warned him against arguing with her. 

“We all know that you like her,” she said. “And we know that she likes you, too. You are both so oblivious and cute.”

He was speechless, blushing like mad. _So he wasn't the only one who knew..._

“When is the wedding?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

“In a month,” Queenie said. “But don't worry, time flies.”


	24. Happy Reunions

And time did, indeed, fly.

Newt came back two weeks after that, sporting dark bags under his eyes but a happy smile between his lips. Tina was overjoyed to have him back, and Queenie quickly helped them to organize for the wedding. 

A few days after Newt arrived, his brother did so as well, which only left Mathilda to return to them. 

Every day was nerve-wracking for Credence, who was starting to believe that he had imagined her all together. However, the book that he cherished so much had been her gift, and if the book was still there, that meant she was there as well. 

Finally, when he thought he would have to go to Germany himself and drag her back to the Scottish countryside, she appeared suddenly in front of their doorstep. There were no words spoken between them, simply a look, and a quick but meaningful hug. 

That night was sleepless for both, lying next to the fire of Newt's home, while Mathilda recounted every moment of her time away.

“Did you find Grindelwald?”

“No,” she said. “But we have a good idea of what he wants in Germany.”

“What is it?”

“It's too complicated to explain. We're working to end it.”

“Are you going to go back to Germany after the wedding, then?”

“That depends on Dumbledore.”

“Has he told you anything?”

“Not yet. He said we'd speak at the wedding.”

Credence closed his eyes, deep in thought. The truth was, he was conflicted.

On one side, he wanted the war to end, the suffering to stop, and for things to go back to normal. On the other side, he wanted to be selfish, to keep her at his side and never let her go, to save her from any possible harm. But, he couldn’t find a way to reconcile both sides of the conflict in his head.

“I don't want you to go,” he finally said.

“It's not my decision.”

“It could be. If you wanted to stay, of course.”

“Where would I go if I stay?” she asked. “I don’t have a home, and I can’t continue abusing of Newt’s hospitality.”

“I don't know. Anywhere you want. Away from this.”

She turned to face him, studying the sharp features of his face carefully.

“I thought you wanted me to help Newt against Grindelwald.”

“Not when it puts us at risk.”

“Us?” she asked.

“If you want to,” he said. “We could be together. Anywhere.”

He turned to look at her, too. There was something in her eyes, something that he hadn't seen until then. Something new, full of hope, of happiness. It was a nice change, a sharp difference from that darkness that lurked around her.

“So?” he asked. “Will you come with me?”

“Sure,” she said without skipping a beat. “You came with me to London. It is only fair that we go on together to new adventures, right?”


	25. Unlikely Companions

 

The wedding had been prepared to perfection thanks to Queenie’s unending creativity and Mathilda’s use of advanced magic. Newt’s yard had been completely fixed for the occasion, decorated with thousands of flowers, glittering ornaments, and a small tent that had been put up for guests.

There were only two small tables with seats, and a bigger table with food. Besides their group, not many people would be coming to join them. It was a simple and small affair.

Even then, Mathilda couldn’t control herself, and she had been playing around with different dresses all morning. From the delicate lilac model to the striking midnight blue dress, none of them seemed to please her.

“I give up,” she said in the early afternoon, dropping next to Credence on the couch. “I don’t know what to wear.”

He turned to kiss her forehead, letting his hand rest against her cheek as he spoke.

“I think it doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’ll look beautiful with anything you decide to wear.”

“At this rate, I’ll end up attending the wedding in rags… or in my underwear.”

He blushed at that, but smiled softly despite himself. He trusted her, and he knew that she will solve the problem eventually.

“Will you help me choose?” she suddenly asked. “I could really use the help.”

“S-sure,” he said. “I’ll help you.”

\---

In the end, she settled for a sky-blue dress that contrasted nicely with her hair, and matched perfectly with his royal blue shirt. She stood next to him, holding into his arm as she shed a few tears when the newlyweds shared their vows, and sat at his side as they ate and talked after the ceremony was over.

He was overjoyed to have her at his side. To be able to intertwine his fingers with hers after so long. To know that at any moment, he could turn his head and kiss her. He could feel his chest about to explode every time he thought about their more recent conversations – those where they made plans to leave England, to live somewhere on the countryside where trouble couldn’t find them.

Mathilda, next to him, was nervous. She would be talking to Dumbledore soon, to discuss where she had to go next – which is when she would tell him that she was leaving with Credence. She didn’t know how her old Professor would react, but after everything, her happiness came first.

So, when he approached her, she stood straight, squeezed Credence’s fingers, and followed Dumbledore to the edge of the yard where no one would disturb them.

“You and Credence seem to be getting along better,” he said. “Has something new happened?”

“No,” she said. “My feelings for him have remained constant since the last time you saw us together.”

“Hmm. It’s strange. You’ve changed since then, become stronger. So has he.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were apart for some time, on my orders. But, nothing has driven you apart. In fact, it has made your feelings deeper.”

She turned to face him, stopping him in his walk.

“On _your_ orders?” she repeated. “You wanted to separate us?”

“Being near Credence is dangerous,” he said, beginning to walk again. “You know that well enough, Mathilda.”

Her hand rose, unconsciously, to touch the healed injury on her shoulder.

“I don’t regret what I’ve done for him.”

“You shouldn’t,” Dumbledore said. “But I think I’ll regret keeping you both away.”

“Why?”

“I know you, Mathilda,” he said, winking at her. “You forget that I was your teacher not that long ago.”

“So?”

“I know you won’t come back to the hunt for Grindelwald after the wedding.”

“That is true,” she said, letting out a long exhale. “How did you know?”

“Your closeness with Credence is very telling. You’ll be leaving with him, won’t you?”

“Yes, I will.”

“That’s good,” he said. “It’ll be good for both.”

“And for you? For the cause, the fight? Will it be good?” she asked.

“You know how this is going to end, Mathilda. It’s useless for me to keep sending innocent people to investigate for me when I know that only one thing can stop Grindelwald.”

“What is it?” she asked. “What can finally stop him?”

“Me,” he said. “It’s time I got personally involved in this war.”

She stayed silent for a few seconds, thinking. Then, she grinned.

“It was about time, Professor. We have waited a long time for you to finally say that.”

He chuckled softly, nodding.

“Yes, indeed you have.”

They stayed quiet as they continued walking. Mathilda threw a look at Credence, who was already beginning to fidget on his seat as he looked for her.

“You’re free to go, Mathilda,” he said. “Take Credence with you, and protect him.”

“I will, Professor.”

“He makes you happy,” he said after a second. “He loves you deeply, and so do you.”

“I wouldn’t use the word ‘love,’ yet,” she said.

“Love, my dear, is the strangest thing. Even when you deny it, you can still find it in the most unlikely companions, in the most unexpected circumstances, and in the most difficult times.” He paused. “Because, after all, love is the most powerful thing that we have. We saw it today, and we will see it time and time again, until the end of times.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :)


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